Chapter 45: The Cooking Sabotage
Zara walked into the kitchen with a renewed sense of confidence. After all, she had successfully made instant noodles the day before, and she had watched Xavier cook with ease. 'How hard could it really be?' she thought, tying an apron around her waist. "It's all about mindset," she whispered to herself.
She pulled up a YouTube video, deciding on a seemingly simple recipe: stir-fried rice with vegetables and chicken. She was determined to prove to herself—and maybe Xavier—that she could handle cooking something more elaborate.
Following the video step-by-step, she prepped her ingredients. She chopped vegetables carefully, deliberately avoiding any incidents with the knife. She even felt a spark of pride as she diced the onions without shedding a tear. "See? I'm a natural," she said to no one in particular.
However, her confidence started to waver when she moved on to the sauce. She set the pan on the stove, added the ingredients as instructed, and waited. The video didn't mention constant stirring, so she assumed everything was fine. That assumption crumbled the moment she smelled something burning.
"No, no, no!" Zara cried, rushing to the stove. The sauce was scorched, sticking to the bottom of the pan like a bad memory. She frantically turned off the burner, muttering, "I followed all the rules! I even timed myself!"
Frustrated, she dumped the ruined sauce and leaned against the counter, glaring at the pan. "This kitchen is sabotaging me," she decided. "There's no other explanation."
By now, her stomach growled loudly, and she realized she couldn't trust herself to finish cooking the meal. Resigned, she left the kitchen and plopped onto the couch beside Xavier, who was immersed in his laptop.
He glanced at her briefly before returning to his work. "What now?" he asked, already sensing her distress.
Zara fiddled with her fingers, sheepishly avoiding his gaze. "Are you hungry?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"No," Xavier replied flatly.
"Well, I'm hungry," Zara admitted, looking at him expectantly.
Xavier arched a brow, his lips twitching with amusement. "And what does that have to do with me?"
Zara groaned, already regretting the conversation. "You're impossible," she muttered. She hoped he might take pity on her and offer to cook, but he remained unbothered, his attention back on his screen.
Realizing this conversation was going nowhere and she couldn't starve herself, Zara reluctantly returned to the kitchen. She opened the cupboard and grabbed her trusty pack of instant noodles, already feeling defeated.
As the water boiled, she sighed dramatically. "At this rate, I'll turn into a skeleton eating noodles every day," she muttered. Her dreams of becoming a chef were crumbling faster than her burnt sauce.
When the noodles were ready, Zara sat at the dining table and picked at her meal. "It's official," she declared to no one. "I'm cursed when it comes to cooking. This is my fate."
From the living room, Xavier called out, "What's the dramatic monologue about now?"
"Nothing," Zara replied, rolling her eyes. She wasn't about to admit her kitchen failures to him—not when he'd never let her live it down.
With her pride bruised and her stomach full of noodles, Zara resolved to tackle cooking another day. For now, survival came first.